"Yes, coach!" she barked, attracting everyone else's attention. For once, she didn't mind having all eyes on her. She was too happy for anything to kill her mood. When she headed across the room toward the hook holding the jump ropes, she was practically skipping.

"Great," Lou groaned from the treadmill. "With Daisy all cracked out with excitement, she's going to be running circles around us today."

"She always runs circles around us," Rory corrected.

"True." Despite her resigned sigh, Lou grinned at Daisy.

Adding an extra hop as she crossed the rope in front of her, Daisy laughed.

Her sleepless night had an upside-she'd cooked enough food for an army. The training group demolished everything she'd made, plus the burritos and cookies that had been Lou and Callum's contribution, in under ten minutes. It was impressive and a little scary.

"Why burritos and cookies?" Ian asked. He'd won a battle with Chris over the final peanut b.u.t.ter one, and he held it close to his chest to protect it. "They don't really go together."

Lou shrugged. "I like burritos, and I like cookies. Therefore, burritos and cookies."

"But there's no theme."

"Are you going to eat that or just cuddle it?" Rory asked. Widening her eyes, she glanced between the treat and his face. His shoulders lowered in defeat as he held out the cookie toward her. Rory pounced on it with glee.

Chris gave an amused snort. "She just played you, buddy. You're helpless when she puts on her big-eyed, starving-kitten-in-the-rain face."

Instead of getting offended, Ian just stretched an arm over the back of Rory's chair. "Pretty much. I like making her happy."

The responding "oohs" varied in tone from sweet to mocking, but Daisy was pretty sure all the guys in the room would give up their last cookie to make their women happy, even Chris-not that she was his woman. Despite his recent behavior, she tried to keep her hope under control. The last thing she wanted to do was drive him away by pushing for more than he had to give.

"Any new Willard updates?" she asked, changing the subject to derail her dangerous line of thinking.

"Thanks for reminding me, Dais," Chris said. "Walsh, would it be possible for me to get copies of those arson reports-and the wildland fire ones-from Chief Early? I went through Rory's notes, but I have some questions."

"Sure, I can get you copies, but not from the chief. He said his reports on the arson calls are kept in Records at the sheriff's department."

Chris's eyebrows snapped together. "What? No, they're not. Stacy even double-checked the files, and she couldn't find anything."

"That's strange." Frowning, Ian absently ma.s.saged the back of Rory's neck. Chewing the last bite of her cookie, Rory looked too blissed out to focus on the conversation. "I always keep a copy of all my reports, so that's where Rory got her notes. I can get you copies of those. They're just the ones for the calls I was on, though. It's not all of the arsons."

"It's not?" Lou sat forward in her chair. "If they're not at either place, where do you think those reports ended up?"

"No idea." Chris's expression contradicted his words. He looked like he did have an idea, but it wasn't one that was easy to swallow. "Who has access to Fire's records?"

"Just the Chief has direct access, but anyone can request a copy. What about yours?"

"Anyone with a key card can get into the Records room."

"Which means all the deputies," Daisy clarified. It was looking more and more like Ellie's father had put them on the right track regarding Willard's death being linked to the arsons.

Chris nodded. "Plus Stacy, the records manager, and Paul, who does maintenance."

"What's your gut telling you?" Callum asked, looking at Chris, who twisted his mouth in a grimace.

"It's not being too specific."

"My vote would be Deputy Lawrence," Lou said, and then looked around the table at the surprised faces. "I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking."

"He doesn't fit Daisy's description." It was a testament to how bothered Chris was that he was so easily discussing the case with them. "She said that guy was bigger. Dais, can you show everyone that video you took?"

"Sure." She took her phone from her pocket.

"Video?" Lou repeated. "Of what?"

"Macavoy that night," Daisy answered absently as she pulled up her videos.

"Wait," Lou said. "You had video of the dead-body-toting deputy this whole time and didn't share? Daisy!"

Daisy wasn't paying attention to Lou's scolding, because the video was missing. It had been the last thing she'd recorded, so it should've been right there. Frowning, she flicked through the thumbnails, checking her small collection of saved videos several times. "It's not here."

"What do you mean?" Chris asked. "I watched it. It was on there-what happened to it?"

Making a sound of frustration, Daisy scanned her videos again. "I don't know. It's just not on here anymore."

"Could you have deleted it by accident?"

Although Daisy started to protest, to say that there was no way she could have done something so careless, she stopped. No one else had access to her phone. It had to have been her. "I guess I must have. Sorry, everyone. It was really dark, though, so I don't think it would've helped much."

"You thought he looked taller than Deputy Lawrence?" Lou asked, still sounding hopeful that he could be a viable suspect.

"Yes, but don't a.s.sume what I saw had anything to do with the Gray case," Daisy warned. "For all we know, it was Macavoy doing exactly what he said he was doing. Have you had any luck tracking him down?"

"Not yet. It's like he just fell off the planet. None of the other deputies were close with him. Angel, one of the dispatchers, said she sent a couple of how-are-you messages to his personal email, but he didn't respond. The guy's disappeared. The way he ran and hid makes me pretty certain he's involved in something illegal." Blowing out a hard breath, Chris stood, looking at Ian. "Can I get copies of your reports on the arsons?"

"Sure. But since they're my reports, they won't have the law enforcement angle. Most of them will read, 'Got there, dumped some water, went home.' You're welcome to look them over, though." He stood, as well. "I'll talk to the chief, too, and see if we can get some information on the arsons that happened when I wasn't on duty."

"No." Ian had barely gotten out the offer before Chris sharply shut him down. "Don't talk to Early about this yet."

His eyes narrowing, Ian leveled a hard glare at the deputy. "You think the chief's involved?"

Pacing parallel to the table, Chris shoved a hand into his hair and tugged. "Honestly, no. This whole thing is making me doubt everyone, though, so I can't discount the possibility. I just would rather you not tip him off that we're looking for a connection between the arsons and the Gray case. Not until we get a better handle on this."

After a pause, Ian gave a tight nod. "Fine. For now. I don't like keeping things from the chief, though."

"I know," Chris said. "So thank you."

"It's probably best if we don't share this with anyone beyond this room, then," Lou said. "You know how fast gossip spreads around here, especially among the emergency services groups. If this leaks out, the chief will definitely hear about it."

Ellie looked around their circle and snorted. "I think we have the only nongossipers in Simpson here."

"I'm probably the loosest lips of all of us," Lou agreed, "and I can keep my mouth shut." Callum gave her a teasing look of doubt, and she smacked his arm. "I can!"

"You know I won't be blabbing to anyone," Daisy said dryly. "Except for my dad, you guys are pretty much my entire social circle."

"Not for long." Lou bounced a little in her seat. "You already have one of the locks undone. Pretty soon, you're going to be visiting me at The Coffee Spot."

"And you can come to the range at my shop, so we don't have to shoot out of your upstairs window," Rory added.

"Road trip to Denver!" Ellie almost shrieked, flushing when everyone stared at her. "Sorry. I got excited." With a small smile, George rubbed her back.

Hearing the possibilities out loud made Daisy simultaneously terrified and thrilled. It could actually happen. Until she'd made a step toward going outside, she hadn't realized how resigned she'd been to never leaving the house again. With that one tiny unfastened lock, she'd relit a flame of hope in her chest. Daisy rubbed the spot, almost feeling the physical burn, and jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder.

"You okay?" Chris bent over so he could speak quietly in her ear.

She nodded, feeling the fire in her chest growing stronger. "I'm wonderful."

When everyone gathered by the door in preparation for leaving, Ellie pulled her back. Surprised, Daisy allowed the other woman to tow her to a corner of the kitchen. After a quick glance at them, George kept his distance, even if that distance was only ten feet.

"I just wanted to tell you how brave I think you're being." Ellie rushed the whispered words, as if she knew they'd have only a minute of privacy before someone crashed their conversation. "When George has to go on a search and rescue call during the night"-she took a quick glance over Daisy's shoulder, presumably to make sure he wasn't in hearing distance-"I get so scared when I'm alone out there, even with a deputy sitting in a squad car outside. Instead of sleeping, I prowl around the house, checking the door lock for the millionth time. George doesn't know it bothers me. If I told him, he wouldn't leave, and then whoever was lost in the wilderness wouldn't get George's help. They might die, all because I'm a chicken."

Daisy had no idea what the right thing to say was. It wasn't like she was the best person to be giving advice about anxiety. "I'm sorry."

Her mouth turning down at the corners, Ellie admitted, "I didn't used to be like this. I used to love being alone, until..." With a small shrug, she gestured toward the center of her chest.

"You were shot," Daisy said. "I think you have the right to be scared."

"I just wish they'd catch him. Not knowing if he's in Mexico or watching me from the trees outside my bedroom window is making me crazy."

Grabbing her hand, Daisy gave it a comforting squeeze. "I never sleep." When Ellie just blinked at that, she clarified, "I mean, I have insomnia. Next time George has to go on a call at night, give me a buzz. If you think it would help, I mean. That way, we can talk about something completely unrelated to murder or gun-toting psychos. Okay?"

Ellie's eyes got a little gla.s.sy with tears, but she smiled. "Okay. That sounds...good. There's something about being up at two in the morning that makes me feel like the only person on Earth, you know?"

"Oh, I know."

When Ellie focused on something over her shoulder, Daisy knew their private time was done. This was confirmed by George's rumbling voice.

"Ready?"

Her smile broadening, Ellie nodded. "Bye, Daisy. Thank you."

"Anytime." As she followed them to the door, Daisy tried to a.n.a.lyze the odd-but good-sensation she was experiencing. She finally realized that she felt helpful. It had been so long since she'd offered a hand, rather than always being the one accepting it. Excitement fizzed through her, carbonating her blood. It almost felt like she was floating.

Everyone made their way through the interior doorway, chatting and shouting final good-byes to Daisy.

"I'll call you later," Chris said quietly in her ear. "I'm so proud of you."

When she turned to smile at him, their gazes clung. The voices in the background faded until it was just the two of them. When Chris stepped back, breaking the moment, Daisy had to resist reaching out to him, grabbing him and keeping him with her. Instead, she contained herself and just watched as he joined the others.

Once everyone was cleared from the entryway, she gave a last wave and closed the inner door. Each dead bolt slid home with a thud, and then she reached for the bottom chain lock. Before she could touch it, her fingers stopped in midair. Instead of latching it, she left both chains hanging uselessly against the door.

Raising her fist, she gave her usual "good to go" pound. She heard the exterior door open and her friends as they spilled out, talking and laughing as they headed to all the places she couldn't go.

Yet. She looked at the two unlatched chains and smiled. She couldn't go yet.

Chapter 14.

The knock was so hesitant that Daisy only heard it because she was standing by the door. She'd been staring at the final dead bolt for an embarra.s.sing amount of time. Her hand kept creeping toward it, but she'd been successful so far in not touching it. The interior door was completely unlocked, and she would've been excited and proud if she hadn't been so close to screaming hysterically and possibly fainting.

At the hesitant tap, tap, tap, she jumped as high as if someone had slammed into the door with a battering ram. Her finger fumbled for the intercom b.u.t.ton, but she hit the unlock one instead. Her entire body went rigid. Illogically, her main source of panic was not that she'd just let who-knows-whom into her house, but that there were no locks between her and the open door.

The edges of her vision went gray, making her only able to focus on that bottom, unfastened dead bolt. She was frozen, not even capable of reaching forward and locking the single barrier between her and the outdoors. The outer door resettled into place with a thud, followed by the click of the lock.

That tiny sound released her from her terror-induced paralysis, and she grabbed at the door. Before she could reach the dead bolt, though, reason wormed its way through her panicky thoughts and reminded her that the outer door was now closed. Compared to her recent overwhelming surge of fear, her twinge of nervousness at not knowing who was waiting between the doors felt inconsequential.

Another timid knock, on the closer door that time, had her turning the doork.n.o.b before she'd even thought it through. As she opened the door, Daisy saw a woman who couldn't have been an inch over five feet tall. Her strawberry-blond hair was in a pixie cut, and she was wearing black-framed gla.s.ses and a peach-colored pantsuit.

"h.e.l.lo." The woman's voice was as tentative as her knock had been. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but I'm Natalie Sharp, with Mintle Real Estate?" Her voice went up at the end, as if asking Daisy if she recognized the name.

Daisy shook her head. The unexpected appearance of her visitor had knocked the panic right out of her, so she was able to function like a seminormal person. "Sorry. It's not familiar, but then I don't get out much. I'm Daisy Little."

"Nice to meet you." Natalie's hesitation faded, as if the polite exchange had allowed her to regain her composure. Stepping through the doorway, she held out her hand. As Daisy shook it, she reached over with her other arm to shove the inner door closed. Despite the lack of fastened locks, it was nice having a solid obstacle between her and the outer door.

The realtor peered around as if she was checking out what parts of the house she could see. Daisy figured it was probably a professional hazard.

"Did you need something?" Daisy asked when the woman had been silently looking around for a while. "We aren't interested in selling the house, I'm afraid."

"Oh, no." Natalie pulled her attention back to Daisy's face. "Although it's a beautiful place. If you ever are considering selling, here's my card." She pulled out a white rectangle and handed it to Daisy.

"Okay...?" Bemused, she accepted the business card.

Natalie gave a small laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry again. Your gorgeous ceramic tile floors distracted me. I just finished showing the house right across the street to a couple, and I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me about the neighborhood and...well, some other things."

The mention of the place Daisy had mentally been referring to as-in a rather morbid and not very creative way-the dead-body house brought all her attention to the realtor. Her near-mental breakdown was temporarily forgotten as curiosity took precedence.

"Did you want to come inside?" Daisy asked, gesturing toward the archway into the kitchen.

"Oh, I'd love to." Natalie was already heading into the kitchen. Giving the unlocked inner door a single glance, Daisy hurried after her guest.

"Would you like some coffee?" she asked. Although she was dying to know about the house across the street, she figured she should be polite. The realtor's questions would probably just be the standard and boring ones, like whether there were many children in the area or if anyone threw loud parties late at night. Daisy wondered if she should let Natalie know about Corbin and his destructive tendencies.

"No, thank you. I'm not really a coffee drinker." Natalie was closely examining the cupboard doors. "Did you recently remodel?"

"Yes." Since Daisy had a feeling that a conversation about home renovations could go on for hours with Natalie, she prompted, "You mentioned you had some questions about the neighborhood?"